


On Common Ground

by affectivefallacy



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Children, Angst, Chaptered, Dysfunctional Family, Feel-good, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Neglect, Kid Fic, On Common Ground AU, Parent-Child Relationship, Pre-Series, Surrogate family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:50:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4418255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/affectivefallacy/pseuds/affectivefallacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jess Mariano comes to Stars Hollow several years earlier, as a nine year old boy, and has a strange yet fateful meeting with one Lorelai Gilmore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This storyline was adapted in part based off another series, that involves a relationship between three characters that in personality remind me very much of Jess, Lorelai, and Rory. I was thinking - what if the relationship between that boy and mom played out between Jess and Lorelai, instead of how it did in Gilmore Girls canon? And so, this fic was born. I will leave the name of the other work up to your guessing, so as to avoid spoilers. If you really want to know, you can ask at the end!

Jess Mariano stood in the middle of a room that was caught halfway between being an hardware store and a diner, staring up at his uncle, and daring him with his silence to give him any compelling reason to move.  
  
"Come on, Jess. It's just for one … semester … or whatever it's called. Do they have semesters in elementary school? It's just until your mom gets things together and then you'll be going back to your old school in New York. Come on, think of it like a long visit, a vacation. Except … with school."  
  
Jess shrugged, watching Luke standing there scratching his head through the back of his baseball cap, awkwardly holding out the small _Power Rangers_ book bag.  
  
"Okay, um." Luke bent down and slipped the shoulder strap of one side of the bag up over Jess' arm, as Jess let himself be jostled about, passively resisting the whole affair, until Luke realized he'd starting putting the bag on backwards. Jess sighed, taking it in his own hands and slipping it on correctly.

"I'll walk you over," Luke said.  

* * *

Jess stepped out into the bright afternoon among a hoard of other school-age children trampling down the steps, screaming and running after each other, excited to get the rest of the day started. Jess took a deep breath, hands clutching both straps of his bag and tromped down the stairs onto the grassy lawn outside the front of Stars Hollow Elementary School. There were kids running around, wrestling each other to the ground, skipping over to where their parents in pairs waited to pick them up, girls drawing out hopscotch patterns on the nearby playground, and small troops of boys shuffling into carpool minivans. The sun shown high above them and the sky was a bright shade of blue, uninterrupted by a single cloud. Even the weather in Stars Hollow was syrupy sweet and garish.  
  
Jess fixed his eyes to the ground and marched one foot in front of the other, deliberately walking his way out of the crowd of carefree small town grade school kids, his untied shoelaces on one foot slapping against the pavement as he went. He walked home from school in New York City by himself all the time and figured his Uncle Luke didn't have the forethought to know what time to pick him up, much less that he couldn't make it back to the diner by himself in the small minutes it would take his uncle to figure it out. This town was too small and the colors making it up, green and blue and newly Tom Sawyer-tricked white picket fences, too bright. Jess missed the muted and senseless pollution of New York colors and sounds, the smells of anything other than freshly cut and sprinkler'd grass, and the home however quiet and unsettled that he’d known how to make himself disappear into. It stood in stark contrast to the tiny, suffocating apartment-converted-office he now had to go back to, where his broad-shouldered uncle would be awkwardly hovering around and Jess felt like he had to ask permission to pull books down off the shelves and leave the day behind by going into them.  
  
Without taking conscious note of it Jess' footsteps begin to veer to the left, all the while his hands determinedly grasping his shoulder straps and his stare fixed to the ground. To the rhythm of his loose shoelaces first against the perfectly swept pavement and then the dusty dirt road, he walked away from Luke's and towards the edges of Stars Hollow proper.  
  
After several minutes of walking Jess' footsteps gradually began to slow, the length of time between each stride expanding, until he took four small steps forward, three, and two, and one, his tennis shoe scuffing against the dirt path, finally deigning his view to be more than the peripheral hedges and grass around him. Stood in place he looked up and around himself, his eyes taking in the scenery from beneath the dark curls of hair falling across his forehead.    
  
He was near a building, or something like a building, with its dilapidated roof and encroaching shrubbery and tree branches. Jess walked over towards the stairs leading up to the porch, testing one foot on the warped wooden surface of the first step. Deciding it wasn't likely to fall out from underneath him, he finally shouldered off his book bag and sat down, placing it between his legs. He let out of huff of air, blowing a stray piece of hair from his cheek, and looked out in front of him. It was almost as if he was in the middle of the woods, if not for the clear dirt path he had come up leading towards this place. There was a field of grass in front of him, with a tree standing off to the side, and wild untamed shrubbery lining the perimeters. The building was clearly abandoned.  
  
Jess looked down again and fiddled with the hook of his bag wondering how long it would be - _if_ it would come to be - that his uncle Luke would start to worry about where he was. But it was quiet out here and nothing was lined up and squared off proper like it was in the center of town and the colors were more varied and the sunlight less offensive. And he could read.  
  
Jess unzipped his bag and pulled out the one other thing he had in there aside from a red folder with a couple pieces of loose leaf notebook paper inside. He pried open the paperback chapter book, effortlessly landing right on the page where he had left off, and he placed his hand against the crisp, yellowed pages, pressing it open flat against his knees. He hunched over the words, starting to finally, thankfully, breathe a little easily.  
  
Jess didn't know how long he had been there reading but he had turned the pages several times over now, the light and shadows hitting the small print shifting and edging further off the page. It was then that Jess heard the sound of someone walking up the path behind him. He curled in his lips and tucked his tongue inside his cheek, sure that he was going to get it now, for having run off and not come straight back after school. He stared down at his book, the words on the page no longer registering in his mind, waiting for the onslaught of curses or scoldings or waps to the back of the head that were surely about to come.  
  
"Oh," a surprised female voice tickled in his ear and he looked up sharply, seeing a tall, young, dark-haired woman in casual business attire and a pair of heels dangling in her hand looking taken aback by the sight of him. He looked her up and down quickly, her wavy brown hair falling across her shoulders and bare feet in the tangle of grass around the building.  
  
"Well," she said, shifting her shoes from one hand to the other, "What did I find? A nine-year-old squatter?" A thin but sure smile played on her lips as she looked back over at him.  
  
Jess' eyes narrowed and he snapped shut his book. "I'm goin'," he said and started to pick up his bag.  
  
"Hey, whoa, whoa, kiddo," the woman said, holding out a hand. "Where'd you come from? What are you doing all the way out here?"  
  
"What are _you_ doing all the way out here?" he shot back, stuffing his book back into his bag. "It's none of your business!" He tried to sound confident as he lisped the last word, his face turning red with anticipation of having to make a quick dash out of here before he got in any trouble that would get back to his uncle.  
  
"Oh my god," the woman said, a twinkling in her eyes. "You're a little punk, aren't you?" She steadied herself on her feet and looked straight at him, his wavy hair sticking up, face scrunched up in brave defiance as best he could make it, and _Power Rangers_ bag dangling in his hand to mirror her heels. "That's adorable."  
  
Jess' whole face turned red. "What'd you mean adorable!" he cried, his indignation making its way up to his reddening ears. "Stop talking to me, old lady! You're not s'pose to talk to little kids you don't know!"  
  
"So cute!" the woman laughed, stumbling over to the stairs and plopping down on them. Jess turned around from where he was standing in the grass to face her, his face still red. She set her heels down on the ground and caught his eye as she sat back up. "I think it's that little kids aren't supposed to talk to strange old ladies they don't know. It's not safe for you to be all the way out here by yourself. Where's your mom, she must be worried?"  
  
Jess took a shuddering mad breath as he stared back at her, hefting his bag up in his hand and letting it fall to the ground with a thud. "My mom's not here!" he said, "She wanted to stay in New York! I don't have to tell you anything!"  
  
"Your dad?" she asked.  
  
"He's not here either!" His hands balled into fists at his side. "I don't have to tell you anything an' he's never been here, so who cares!"  
  
The woman paused, her manicured hand resting on the porch step beside her and curls falling against the side of her face. Jess screwed his eyes shut and took two deep breaths, then slowly opened them and saw her still staring back at him. She smiled gently. "That must be lonely."  
  
She reached out to pick up his bag, holding it out to him. Jess stared back at her, his breath evening back out, and uncurled his hand, lifting it and taking the bag back, letting the weight drag his arm down once she let go. "Do you live near here? Do you know how to get home?"  
  
Jess opened his mouth and then closed it again, trying to find his words. His voice was small when he answered. "My uncle's," he said. "I know."  
  
She tucked her brown curls behind her left ear. "What's your name? Mine's Lorelai."  
  
"Um," Jess looked to the side and shifted from one foot to the other, "I don' wanna say."  
  
"Okay, kiddo," she laughed. "Finally being smart about that stranger danger."  
  
Jess slipped his book bag back over his shoulders, looking at her with a furrowed brow. "What are you doing out here?" he asked, wondering if she could give him some sort of hint about this old building.  
  
"I just like to come check this place out now and then. Kinda quiet." She looked up behind her at the ruined building. "I work near here."  
  
Jess popped a silent "oh" with his mouth and darted his eyes out towards the dirt path. It wasn't that he necessarily wanted to leave, but he didn't know what to do next, and he was sure it was getting too late to be out anyway. Uncle Luke was probably furious and rearing up to give him a good wallop.  
  
"Do you need me to help you get home?"  
  
"No," he answered quickly. He looked down and kicked a foot at the ground, tearing up a small clump of weeds and dirt.  
  
"Well, you better get back to your uncle's quick, it's gonna be dark soon."  
  
Jess nodded and swayed on the heels of his feet, looking back up at her. Then he ducked his head down again and turned swiftly walking out towards the road.  
  
"Hey, brat!" she called out. He stopped and looked over his shoulder at her, hands tightening around the straps of his bag and eyes straining to see her in the dimming light and shadows from the porch overhang and trees. "There's an inn up the road from here, Independence Inn. I work there during the day and…" she trailed off, and then plucked a smile onto her face again, "kinda live there during the rest of the time. If you ever don't feel like going straight home again, you can come by there."  
  
Jess raised his eyebrows at her, although he was sure she couldn't see, and took in her appearance one last time. She was young, but looked about the same age as his uncle and mom, so old, too … but sitting there with her bare feet in the grass around a falling apart old house and a sloppy smile on her face, wavy dark curls framing her cheekbones, she seemed a part of another kind of world.  
  
_'That must be lonely'_  
  
Maybe if he saw her again it wouldn't be so bad. He turned his head back around and dropped his chin to his chest, contemplating the threshold between the grassy field and the dirt path in front of him. Then he lifted one hand, fingers spread out, and tossed it her way in a waving gesture, in the next split second dashing off down the road, shoelaces thwacking against the dirt.  
  
"See ya, kiddo!" he heard her shout from the distance behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

As he’d suspected, Luke wasn’t too happy when Jess slipped inside the to-be diner in the later afternoon, the bell jingling to signal his arrival. He was immediately met with four quick strides over to him, a rough hand grabbing him by his book bag and then dragging him up the stairs.  
  
"Where were you Jess?! Where were you?!"  
  
"Reading," he said, shrugging his shoulders.  
  
"Re-" his uncle pinched his brow, "Where?!"  
  
Jess lifted one shoulder and then tossed his head back over it, indicating a vague direction.  
  
"Jess! You can’t just not come home after school, okay?! You have to come straight home! And if you’re not going to, then you have to tell me where you’re going! But you shouldn’t not come straight home! Unless, like, you have an after school thing or something! But I should know!"  
  
Jess heaved a sigh and cast an unfixed gaze over towards other side of the small room.  
  
"You got it, Jess? Jess!"  
  
Jess turned his head back and looked up at his uncle, who lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his head again, staring down the boy in front of him with some bewilderment. Jess took this as his sign to be let go and walked over to the kitchen table, climbing into the chair and slinging his bag onto the table top. He folded his hands in front of him and rested his chin on them, letting out a puff of breath.  
  
Luke made his way over there slowly, eyeing his nephew as he opened the refrigerator. “You hungry?”  
  
Jess shrugged.

* * *

Jess stepped up to the edge of the path, acorns crunching under his shoes into the dirt, and the sharp sound knocking him out of his reverie to fully take in where he was. School had gotten out for his second day there, as painful and uneventful as the first, ten minutes prior. As soon as the bell rang, he'd found himself being pulled by something - curiosity ... boredom ... routine ... or something else tight inside his chest that he had not read a word to define yet - to take the same aimless walk he had the day before, only this time knowing where he would end up.  
  
Jess took a deep breath, breathing in the early Spring air tinged with leftover cold. He surveyed the grounds in front of him and found it exactly the same as it had been the day before. She had said that she worked, or something about living, just up the road a little ways from here. Jess bit the inside of his cheek and stepped off the road into the grassy field. He made his way over to the tree standing in front of old house and with his feet firmly rooted in place he leaned over and looked up and down the empty porch.  
  
Dropping his head and looking down at his feet Jess let the options rattle around in his brain. He had wandered this way and stayed sitting by this old, abandoned house yesterday because he had wanted to be alone. It’s large but squat shape and crumbling outline amidst an overgrown field and secluding collection of brambles had struck him like a slightly familiar face in a strange town. The last thing he had expected, or wanted, was for someone to find him. So, the last thing he was interested in doing was going to visit wherever it was she came from. He could care less, no matter how curious her appearance and words had been.  

Jess shuffled his feet against the tangles of weeds and dirt and then turned around, shouldering off his bag, and sitting down cross-legged against the trunk of the old tree, back facing the abandoned house. He wedged himself into a comfortable position against the roots and lightly touched the overgrown grass around him, patting down and familiarizing the spot. Jess kicked out his legs and dragged his bag over into his lap, unzipping it and pulling out his book. He looked up blinking and squinting at the sunlight filtering through the tree branches and then folded the book open to the right page, starting to read just as the day before.  
  
Time passed but Jess made sure to look up periodically, blinking back into the world and checking that it wasn’t too late by how close the sun had sunk to the cypresses lining the other side of the road. It was during one of these relapses back into the real world, that couldn’t have been more than fifteen or so minutes since he started, that he heard the sound of shoes kicking up dirt along the road behind him. He stiffened in place and then folded in his knees and the covers of his book. The footsteps stopped and Jess heard a feminine sigh, the steps then resuming and stopping at the sound of wooden boards creaking beneath the weight of someone sitting down. Jess held his breath and let his one hand brace against the tree trunk behind him.  
  
Quickly he darted his head around and saw her sitting there, in blue jeans and a pink tie-dye t-shirt, her arm propped on her knee and chin rested in her hand, long fingernails softly pressed into her cheek as she looked off into the distance away from him. Her dark, wavy hair now had offsetting streaks of green in it. She had a coffee cup in her other hand and casually took a sip. Jess let his head fall back against the tree trunk and sighed. He wasn’t ... hiding exactly. But every instinct from the crown of his head down into the pit of his gut had told him all his life it was better to observe first than to be observed. If he hadn’t come to see her at the inn like she asked then why was she here? He relaxed his legs, still trying to contain his limbs behind the thick old tree.  
  
"Hey, punk!" Jess jumped in place. "Quit hiding." Her voice floated over to him easily on the light spring air, cheerful and teasing, "Didn’t want to come by the inn?"  
  
Jess edged up, untangled his legs and scraped his hand along the rough bark of the tree. He turned around, letting his book fall open hanging from his hand, several pages falling loose from under his thumb. He pulled up his bag with the other hand but let it drag in the grass. Jess gave her a deep shrug of his shoulders and twitched his mouth into a half-frown.  
  
"Don’t worry, kiddo," she said with an expression settling somewhere on amused exasperation. "I told you I come by some of the time after work. I usually have about an hour to kill a couple days a week." She smiled at him. "But if you want it all to yourself, you’ll have to arm wrestle me for it. I was here first and," she said, dipping her index finger to make the point, "I’m older."  
  
"What’s with your hair?" he asked moving over to the porch steps and pulling his book back up into both hands, sitting down next to her and flipping it open, as if planning to ignore her presence.  
  
"Rude," she said, tugging at a green curl. "What’s with yours? It looks like no one ever brushes it."  
  
Jess cut her a glare and went back to flipping the pages of his book, trying to find where he had left off. They sat in silence for a minute, her fingernails intermittently tapping against the cardboard coffee cup, elbows pressed into her knees. “A friend of mine did it this morning,” she piped up, “Awful, right? But it’ll wash right out first time I take a shower.”  
  
Jess put his book down on the step beside him and pressed his palm against the wood, leaning over in front of Lorelai and peering into her face. She blinked and sat back. “What, do I have something in my teeth?”  
  
Jess sat back again and picked the book up, fwipping the pages against the pad of his thumb. “You’re weird,” he stated.  
  
"Again, with the rudeness," Lorelai chimed, taking a sip from her coffee.  
  
Jess sat, staring at a sentence in the middle of the page, reading it over in his head several times, as his eyebrows knitted together. Then he looked up, staring out into the grass in front of the building. “Do you have a husband?” he asked.  
  
"What?" Lorelai asked, pulling the coffee cup away from her lips.  
  
"Do you," he said the words carefully, as if asking a little kid, "have a husband?"  
  
"Why?" she laughed.  
  
Jess stopped, looking at her with a guarded frown. "Cause you’re old."  
  
She let out a short, sharp laugh at that. “Well, okay then. I’m old,” she whispered to herself. “Um, no. I don’t have a husband.”  
  
Jess looked out in front of him for a moment longer and then pressed his hand back down on the pages of book, turning his face back to the words. “Okay.”  
  
Lorelai twisted the plastic lid of her coffee cup between her fingertips. “I almost had a husband,” she said, almost as if admitting a fact to herself that she didn’t quite believe.  
  
Jess looked up at her. The light hit the side of her face between patterns of shadows cast by the leaves above them. Her eyes looked distant, a smile whispered across her face that wasn’t like the others she’d teased his way. He thought, just for a moment, in just that light with just those words, that she looked just like his mom.  
  
“My mom’s almost had a husband a lot of times,” he offered.  
  
"Oh?" she said, turning his head to look at him, her left hand bunched up in her brown and green curls. He nodded, simply, mouth rested into barely a frown on his tiny face, reassuring the fact to her in his best attempt at solidarity.  
  
That same different sad smile crossed her face briefly, but this time Jess felt it directed at him. His frown deepened.  
  
Jess stood up, the movement abrupt and spurred before he’d even thought about it. He picked up his bag and turned around to face her, pressing the bag against his shins. “I have to get back now or my uncle will get upset again.”  
  
"Okay," she said, picking up her coffee cup and standing. She started to walk out towards the road and Jess tromped along behind her, his bag hitting against his knees with every step. They stopped at the edge of the dirt path. "That’s good," she said. "That your uncle would be worried."  
  
"Yeah," Jess frowned up at her.  
  
"I’m going that way." She pointed the opposite direction up the road, where the path disappeared behind a bend.  
  
Jess looked down and bit his lip softly, thinking. He looked back up and decided it wouldn't bruise his ego too much to let a few more words pass between them. "What’s that way?"  
  
"I told you, where I work. You didn’t want to come, remember?" She started to walk out towards that way. "Invitation still stands. Maybe next time, kiddo?" She nodded towards the book still in his hand, "We have a little library even."  
  
Jess looked down at the book, slipping slightly from between his fingers and where it was held against his book bag. “And…,” he bit his lip again, “You said you stay there too, right?”  
  
Lorelai stopped. “Yeah,” she answered, “In the back potting shed.”  
  
Jess gave her an incredulous look. “Are _you_ a squatter?”  
  
She laughed, airy but bright. “No, it’s an arrangement I have with the owner. Fixed it up to be cozy. My daughter and I live there.”  
  
“Your daughter," he tested the words to himself.  
  
"She’s about your age, I think. So another reason to come by.” She winked at him and then started to walk away. Jess looked after her and just as she was about to round the bend she shouted out without looking back, "Get on home, punk! Before your uncle worries!"  
  
As she was out of view, Jess turned around and started back into town.


	3. Chapter 3

Jess slipped into the store, the bell jingling above him in tune with the brass lock clacking against the creaking wooden frame of the door. His uncle was standing behind the counter, the phone to his ear.  
  
“Yeah, I need fifteen orders of that,” Luke said into the receiver. He glanced up at Jess and nodded, lifting his open hand. “And yeah, ten of the - yeah of the buns …” Jess started to move towards the stairs, through the disarray of half set up tables and chairs and packing tape littering the floor. Luke switched the phone over into his other hand and glanced up at the wall clock just above the storage room doorway. Jess caught him looking and glanced up, too.   
  
4:15 – over half an hour since he’d gotten out of school. Shimmying around the protruding legs of an overturned bar stool Jess hopped over towards the staircase.   
  
He heard several loud whaps in quick succession as his uncle banged his open hand against the countertop to get his attention. Jess stopped mid-stride and forlornly cast his gaze down at the top of the first step, only a few inches away from running up to safety and feigning obliviousness. He turned and faced his uncle, now looking straight at him down the length of the backside of the counter. Luke fixed him with a hard stare, gluing him in place, as he finished up his phone conversation.   
  
“Alright, that’ll be great, Charlie. Thanks.” Luke pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed the receiver firmly into the set on the wall. “Where have you been?”   
  
Jess frowned and lifted his shoulders. “Don’t,” Luke said, pointing his finger at Jess, “Don’t shrug. Answer.”   
  
Jess dropped his shoulders mid-shrug and placed his hands in his pockets, turning his frown into a straight line.   
  
Luke folded his arms across his chest and looked back at Jess. The clock on the wall ticked to 4:16.   
  
Luke sighed and ducked his head, pinching his brow. “Alright, Jess. I know you’re not exactly thrilled about being here but you have to stop with this attitude. You’re a kid, I’m in charge of you, I need to know where you are when you’re not here and not in school.”   
  
Jess bit the inside of his cheek, watching his uncle. He slowly turned over the options in his head, of continuing his silence or giving a response. He decided on a middle ground.   
  
“I came back, didn’t I? What’s the big deal?”   
  
“That’s not the point, Jess. What if something happens to you while you’re out? You could get hurt or – or lost -”   
  
Jess quirked an eyebrow at that. Lost in Stars Hollow, sure.   
  
“- or kidnapped.”   
  
“Oh, jeez,” Jess said, scuffing his shoe against the floor.   
  
“I’m serious, Jess.”   
  
Jess took a deep breath and rolled his head, looking out towards the door.   
  
“Jess …”   
  
Jess frowned and continued to stare away from his uncle.   
  
“Alright, fine,” Luke sputtered, slapping his hand on the counter. He adjusted his baseball cap and pointed his index finger at Jess. “If you’re not gonna answer, then you can go upstairs until supper.”   
  
Jess flicked his eyes towards Luke and spun on his heel. “That’s where I was trying to go in the first place,” he mumbled. He moved to the stairs, running up them two at a time.   
  
Luke watched the empty space where Jess had been for a moment before turning to lean heavy against the counter, clasping his hands together and resting them on the dusty countertop. Dropping his forehead with a groan, he heard the receding echo of his nephew's footsteps up the stairs and the slamming door.

* * *

Jess quickly walked down the empty hallways of Stars Hollow Elementary School, the bright lights in the ceiling reflecting on the bright clean floor under his feet. His hurried reflection caught in the glass cases along the walls, housing trophies for spelling bees and soccer tournaments and pumpkin harvesting contests. He kept a steady pace, while the school halls were still settling into silence after the dispersing of the 3rd through 5th grade classes into the schoolyard and lunch room. He wanted to get where he was going before some unconvincing teacher with a smile daubed on her face found him and inquired as to how he was adjusting and why he wasn’t with the other kids. It had already happened about a dozen times and he’d only been here for a week.   
  
The lengthy stretch of the fluorescent lit, newly waxed, plaque and ornament filled hallway felt like a long walk through a mirage, and Jess couldn't be sure what he was walking towards was any different. He at last reached the pair of doors he was looking for, their clean wooden surface a welcome sight against the iridescent backdrop he'd slogged through to get here, and wrapped his hand around the solid metal handle, pulling one side open.   
  
This whole town was sitting on top of an illusion; the kind that said everything was fine - just like his mom did when she told him that he was coming to stay here, just like his uncle said when he showed him the gutted hardware store he was going to be sleeping above - when in the pit of his stomach he knew it wasn't. The only person who hadn't told him it was fine yet was that same woman ... Lorelai. She'd told him it was _lonely_ .   
  
Jess let the heavy door slam behind him, and he stood inside of it, taking in the sights and scents of the shelves of books in front of him. It was quiet ... just like libraries prided themselves on being, and the air was cooler in here than out in the hallway. There was a faint under scent of that same pristine cleanliness as the rest of the school, but it was masked by the smell of old, well-read, stacks upon stacks of books. Jess breathed in deeply. Maybe it was. Lonely. He had a thousand words to his mind already, many far beyond his age, but he didn't have one for this yet.   
  
He wasn't set on finding it either. Walking through the stacks Jess ran the tips of his fingers along the spines, his hand skipping one by one over slick hardbacks and creased paperbacks and raised drips of text and smooth printed titles. He navigated himself by touch all the way down the rows and rows of books, into the back corner of the room, near a beanbag chair and a poster sign that read in multi-colored bubble letters: _"Stars Hollow Elementary Book Club - meets twice a week, Tuesday and Friday!"_   
  
Jess turned so he was facing the shelves to one side. He didn't need a word for a feeling that wasn't permanent, settling in his stomach over a place that wasn't real. Even if it knotted in his gut and twisted all throughout the day, he knew it was going to be let loose soon, and this whole experience was going to be a memory. So, he didn't need a word. He just needed to not be here.     
  
Jess inhaled through the flare of his nostrils, the scent of dozens of colorful paperbacks lined up in front of him. They had a tantalizing acetic fragrance, that could offer up to him a million scents - in addition to sights and sounds and tastes and all his senses brought to life by the shapes of ink on leafs of paper. So when they all came together, he was somewhere, and it brought a momentary settling to his stomach and easement to his mind.   
  
Jess turned his head to the left and then right, peaking at the librarian facing away from him at her desk, and the otherwise emptiness of the room. He slipped a book off the shelf with his index finger caught on the edge of the spine, and in a careful swift movement he dropped it into his book bag.   
  
Jess looked around himself again. The clock on the opposite wall ticking away another minute was the only sound in the dense quiet. He zipped up his bag, slipping it back over his shoulders. Just as he did the recess bell rang, filtering through the rows of shelves. The muted sounds of kids filling the mirage hallways as they headed back to class echoed against the thick glass of the library’s windows. Jess took one last look around the room, committing the layout to mind. Although it was small, and the stacks of books didn't tower over his head like he was used to, and everything was a bit too pastel colored, it was a welcomed enough change in atmosphere. It was where he could get books and that was the most important thing about being here. He uprooted himself and found the backdoor of the library, slipping out, and melting into the crowd of other kids swarming back towards the classrooms.

* * *

The day went on, the midday sun outside the classroom window sinking towards the treeline. Jess was the first to his feet when the final bell rang, before the teacher had finished explaining the homework, and had somehow jostled his way out the door before anyone else, even though he'd sat at the very back corner of the room. But when he finally stood on the steps at the front of the school, everyone else's days starting to unfold in front of him as they ran off to their parents' cars, their friends' houses, and their favorite games, Jess found himself momentarily frozen. His feet did not carry him like they had the days before.  
  
Although he felt an equal pull to move towards that same abandoned old house, he wasn't sure he saw the point. It seemed just as well that he go back to his uncle's and get the day over and done with. He could read anywhere. So, with a dedicated movement of one foot in front of the next, he started that way, pulling himself in the opposite direction.   
  
It was a much shorter walk back to his uncle's place, so the building was soon in sight. Jess trudged along with the singular weight of the filched library book on his back, not even a pencil otherwise in his bag. As Jess approached the building he heard the whirring of a drill and rattling of wood and metal and heavy objects being moved around. He opened the door and stepped just inside. Sawdust was in the air and packing tape still tangled on the floor at his feet. He saw a couple of men he didn't know in old, paint-stained t-shirts putting together legs onto the overturned tabletops from the day before. His uncle was squeezed between the counter and back doorway, holding up one side of a stove, while a burly guy in matching flannel with a tool belt around his waist bolstered the other, trying to get it through. Luke caught Jess' eye and loosened his grip on the stove, while the other man grimaced.   
  
"Oh, hey, Jess," Luke said. "School get out already?"   
  
Jess gave a half-nod and looked over at the younger men who were wobbling the newly fastened table legs, making sure they were sturdy.   
  
"You should probably go upstairs til we're done, Jess." Luke's voice cut in over the fading noise of the drill bit.   
  
"Hey, Luke. You wanna get this through the door or not?"   
  
"Oh, sorry, Tom," Luke hefted the stove back up and they resumed shuffling it through the small doorway. Jess watched the other two men turn over a few of the newly assembled tables, which varied in size and shape and color, as if they'd been bought in stages from various locations. The accompanying assortment of chairs were lined up against the far window.   
  
"Alright, well, I guess I can have the guy hook it up tomorrow with the other stuff," Luke said, emerging from the back room, dusting off his hands.   
  
"Yep," the other man, Tom, responded, picking up a clipboard from the top of the counter and ticking something off. "Well, I'd say you're all done here, Luke. Just the frill and ornament to do now." They walked around to the other side of the counter and the two younger men joined them. "You sure you don't want some of my guys to take down the old shelving? Or paint the place?"   
  
"Ah, nah," Luke said, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. "I think it's all good. Thanks for all your help."   
  
"Sure. Anything for Will's kid," Tom said, looking up and around the inside of the store. Jess followed his gaze, noting the shelves still lined with tins of polish, work gloves and garden hoses, and old cookie bins filled with nails and bolts.   
  
"Maybe, take the sign down out fro-," one of the younger men started to suggest, tucking a rag into his belt loop.   
  
Luke clapped his hand on Tom's shoulder. "Really grateful for all your help guys. I gotta take care of my nephew now, so -" Jess wrinkled his nose at that from the sidelines and Luke moved the three men over to the door. "I'll write your last check tomorrow and get it sent to you right away. Make sure to stop by when we open." He closed the door behind them, the bell jiggling with their sudden exit.   
  
Luke turned to Jess and let out a huff of breath. Jess stared back at him, the disarray of the half assembled diner settling around them with the dust in the air. Luke clasped his hands together. "You want a snack?" he asked.   
  
"Has my mom called?"   
  
Luke's clasped hands fell down by his side. "Wh-?" he started, his face giving it away too easily. Jess took his eyes off his uncle and resumed looking around the room. "I mean, um," Luke tried, attempting to catch his nephew's eyes again. "She hasn't. Not since she dropped you off. But I'm ... I'm sure she will soon." Jess' eyes traced the outline of the whole room - the shelves lined with hardware supplies, and the slightly faded paint, and old heavy cash register on the end of the counter. "Probably ... uh, probably just letting you get adjusted, you know?" Jess' eyes skimmed over the boxes of coffee mugs that were already littered along the back of the counter, that would need to be rewashed, and the new-old tables scattered around the floor, and the shiny edge of the stove peeking out from the back room. "Jess?" He whipped his eyes back up to Luke, standing there with that same dumbfounded look on his face. This place wasn't a hardware store or a diner. It wasn't anything. It was just ... in between - and Jess wasn't sure it ever wouldn't be.   
  
Luke relaxed his shoulders as he watched his nephew. "I'm glad you came straight home.”   
  
"I'm not," Jess answered, turning and walking towards the stairs up to the office-apartment. It wasn't his home.   
  
"Jess," Luke said, his name stressed on his lips like it always seemed to be, following right behind him.   
  
Jess stopped when he got to the top of his stairs, the knot in his stomach tightening, and turned around. Luke paused on the stairs below him. "I'm goin' to join the book club," Jess said. "It's twice a week. Tuesday and Friday. I'll be back late."   
  
"Oh, well ... that's ... good." Luke moved the rest of the way up the stairs as Jess entered the apartment. "How late is it?"   
  
"An hour," Jess said, walking past his uncle's bed and his own makeshift mattress over to the vintage desk on the far side of the room.     
  
"Okay," Luke said, sitting down at the table. "Make sure you're home after an hour."   
  
Jess rolled his eyes, facing away from his uncle, and upturned the tin can onto its side, shaking out the array of different colored pens and pencils of varying lengths and dullness. He ran his eyes over the collection and picked the sharpest yellow pencil he found. He made his way back over to the kitchen table, facing Luke and tapping the pencil in his hand against his leg. "Can I go downstairs?" he asked, a tinge of sarcasm in his voice at asking permission.   
  
Luke turned in his chair to face him. "It's kinda dusty down there. Tools are ... lying around."   
  
Jess didn't say anything for a beat, standing there flicking the pencil between his two fingers, his backpack still on.   
  
"Alright, just ... don't touch anything."   
  
Jess was already halfway out the door as Luke finished his sentence. Once he tramped down the stairwell he turned to the storage room off to the side. Jess made his way towards the back of the rows of empty shelves, winding his path the way he had through the stacks of books earlier in the day, until he found a shadowy corner with a little bit of light to sit down in. The floor and the wall were hard, and there was a draft coming in from somewhere, as Jess dropped his book bag onto the ground by his feet, its empty form sagging around the single library book tucked inside.   
  
He lay stomach down on the floor, his shirt pulling up so his skin pressed against the cool concrete. His legs lazily kicked in the air as he pulled out the book and laid it flat. Jess read the first few sentences over and over again, trying to will away the liminal world expanding outwards beyond him. It wasn't as easy to drift into the words as it had been the last two days under the canopy of trees and broken sunlight, but Jess had another trick for getting away slipped into the palm of his hand.He bit his lip and re-read a sentence one more time, letting his fingers twitch as he turned it over in his mind, putting the tip of his pencil to the milky tanned page.

The seconds built and melted away, as his hand started to move effortlessly across the margins of the book. Jess let his light pencil marks etch into the soft paper, reading one sentence of the book, sharing his thoughts, and reading the next, over and over again in a circular churning of his mind and the pages. As he did so, only one regard to Stars Hollow remained present in his mind; tomorrow was Friday ... and he knew exactly where he was going after school.


	4. Chapter 4

The short heels of her shoes kicked up the dirt under her feet as Lorelai made her way along the path she knew well. She'd been coming by this abandoned building on and off since she'd first found it when trying to forge a footpath shortcut from her work/home to her daughter's elementary school, seeing as she'd had no car when her daughter had started kindergarten. The good thing about living in a small town, and living where you work, was that she could get most anywhere on foot, but the way from the inn to the school had turned out to be a longer walk than she would have liked.

She'd found some back dirt roads that pretty much cut a beeline from the Independence Inn to Stars Hollow Elementary School and in her early twenties she'd had no qualms about traversing it. Of course, now with the beat up jeep she'd worked her butt off to save for, she didn't need this shortcut. But on that rare occasion she needed to get away ... the old building she'd found tucked away here in the trees enchanted in her mind latent teenage fantasies of perfect, secret hideaways, that had been traded out for actual teenage running away, the reality of which hadn't been such a fairy tale. 

She sighed as she slowed her speed along the path. Today she was coming by for a different reason.  
  
Coming up from the back and rounding the side of the building, she stopped just in the field of grass before the porch. There he was, not on the steps reading like she'd found him the first time, or resting back against the tree as she had the second, but pacing up and down the porch instead. He didn't seem to take notice of her, but she could tell by the slightest shift of his jaw muscles that he knew she was there. She watched silently, her heels sticking in the soft dirt of the field. Her purse was hanging from the crook of her arm, coffee cup from the inn in hand. He kept moving up and down the length of the old porch, head faced down as he went. His hand would reach out and dust along the edge of the dirt-stained porch railing, swaying as he changed direction, shoulder bumping against the rusted shut door loose on its hinges. He skipped over the hole in the floor at the other end of the path, sweeping around the broken glass from the porch light above, and stopping short of the half broken down swing, hanging only by one end on its chain. He continued pacing up and down the porch this way, his movement aimless but purposeful.

He hadn't been here yesterday when she'd gotten off work. She’d gone by foot to pick her daughter up from school and decided to cut by this way just to check. The last two times she'd come by had been a matter of convenience. The first day, when she'd found him here, she had an hour to kill before her daughter got out of her after school club. The second day her daughter had been going home with her friend Lane, and Lorelai's curiosity and concern was peaked enough to see if he had come back to this particular place.

So, when she checked again yesterday in the little time she had, she was worried when she hadn't found him here. Although she tried to tell herself he'd simply gone back to his uncle's, and she shouldn't be worried that a kid wasn't where he wasn't supposed to be, something in her gut remained unsettled for the rest of the evening and throughout the work day. If there was a reason he was coming here in the first place, his suddenly not showing up anymore may not exactly be a good sign. So Lorelai thought he might have still come by yesterday, but she'd just missed him. That possibility unsettled her even more, thinking of him on his own out here, and not only for the obvious safety concerns.  
  
Jess had arrived several moments earlier, not sure whether or not that woman would be waiting on the steps already, or suddenly appear again. He told himself he wanted the place alone - that was the whole reason he'd found it. Somewhere away from school, the town, his uncle. Not intruded on by anything or anyone from this place or this situation. Somewhere all on its own.  
  
When he got there and saw the area was empty he’d shouldered off his bag and left it on the ground, moving up over to the porch and climbing the steps. He’d looked around from that small vantage point and started examining the front of the building, taking in the details that he hadn't paid much attention to before. Then he'd started walking. He didn't feel like reading at the moment, just walking - thinking. Maybe biding his time to see if she would show.  
  
She did.  
   
After a long couple moments of him silently pacing and her silently watching, Lorelai's voice came from behind.  
  
"Do you come by here everyday, kiddo?"  
  
Jess didn't stop walking or look up at her question. "I didn't come yesterday," he said.  
  
Lorelai felt the knot in her stomach finally loosen, although only slightly. She watched his small hand run over the porch rail again, floorboards and accompanying crooked nails squealing under the small weight of his sneakers. "Oh," she said, "Why not?"  
  
Jess stopped briefly, back facing her, and then resumed pacing. "My uncle," he answered.  
  
"He's worried when you're late?" Lorelai asked.  
  
Jess shrugged, as he toed a stray piece of wood with his scuffed shoe. "I guess," he said. "He's _mad_ ."  
  
Lorelai smiled. Jess continued walking and she dropped her head, clearing her throat, before looking back up at him. "He's probably right though. I mean, Stars Hollow isn't exactly the badlands, but it's not the safest idea to be wandering around abandoned buildings. And I'm sure your uncle's just concerned cause he cares about you."  
  
Jess stopped, the muscles around his stomach tightening, and his lips pressing together tightly. There it was. She was gonna take this place away from him, cause she, like every adult, knew where they wanted him to go. Knew - and told him - and put him - wherever they felt he should be. For the first time since he'd stepped onto the rundown porch of this old building, he felt like it was about to give out from under him.  
  
Jess reached up a hand and clenched it around the support beam by the front steps, turning around and hanging out from it on the lip of the porch. He fixed his eyes on her's.  
  
"I don't have to listen to you," he bit out, his stomach growing tighter.  
  
As his words left his mouth, he felt his throat grow cold, and saw a twinge of what, for the first time, looked like irritation pass over the woman's face. It was gone almost as soon as it showed, however.  
  
"Well, maybe not," she said, fixing her gaze back at him just as sharply. "But you are gonna have to put up with me." She broke the firmness of her gaze and took a sip of her coffee, keeping her eyes on him over the rim. Jess dropped his arm. "Cause if you want to insist on hanging around here, instead of coming by the structurally sound inn I keep inviting you to, then you can expect some company other than the termites."  
  
Jess looked down at his feet and was silent for a moment. He slid down one step below him and twitched his glare back up at her. "Well, I'm only gonna be here twice a week," he said.  
  
"Very specific."  
  
He let his gaze falter and with more hesitation moved down one more step. "I'm not gonna come by ... the inn," he said, watching her carefully.  
  
"Your choice."  
  
Jess paused and let out a huff of breath, his hair falling in his eyes. "Why don't you just tell on me and make me go home?"  
  
Lorelai's mouth twitched upwards and her eyes softened as she looked at the boy in front of her. "Cause," she said, "for whatever reason, you don't want to." She shifted and scanned her eyes up and down the old building, tangles of overgrown trees trailing its rooftop and afternoon sunlight pin-pricking through the holes in the window screens, quiet and peaceful. "And I know what that feels like. So I'm not gonna force you." She looked back over at him, staring at her, his eyes unguarded. "But I am gonna make sure you stay safe."  
  
She stuffed her empty coffee cup into her purse and walked over towards the porch steps. Jess sat down, his sneakers skidding into the worn area of mud and grass below the steps. "Wanna see something?" she asked, raising her eyebrows playfully. Jess looked up at her for a moment, his cheeks flushed on his small face, and then dipped his head with a single nod. "It's a piece of treasure." Lorelai smiled, reaching into her purse and pulling out a modest, green wallet.  
  
Jess watched as she flipped it open, her brown hair with a faded emerald streak falling across her face as she looked downward. She folded it back and bent down, placing one hand on her knee, and holding it out open towards him, a lopsided grin on her face. "There you go," she said. "My treasure."  
  
Jess stared at the open wallet in her hand, from his place sat on the porch, elbows resting on his knees, and saw a little girl staring back out at him. A photograph was pressed beneath a cheap sheet of plastic inside the wallet, the edges around it worn and faded. It was of a little girl, with straight brown hair, lighter than the woman's in front of him, wearing a sundress with her arms folded behind her back. Her knees were showing from underneath the shadow of her dress, and one was scrapped lightly, against her otherwise smooth skin. Her face was rosy and her eyes a piercing blue, wide open and dancing, a lopsided grin on her face to match ... her mother's. She was looking right out into the camera, out of the picture frame and into his eyes.  
  
Jess tentatively reached up one hand and took the wallet between his thumb and forefinger. Lorelai let it go and smiled as he brought the photo closer to his face, his lips parting as he breathed steadily.  
  
She looked like she was laughing in the photograph. He wanted to hear it.  
  
"So," Lorelai voice broke over him and he snapped his eyes back up towards her. "What do you think?" She smiled at him, still bent down, hands pressed into her knees. "Her name's Rory."  
  
Jess looked back at the picture - the little girl his age who lived in a potting shed with just her mother - and then quickly held it back out to Lorelai, a faint blush etched onto his cheeks. Lorelai took the wallet and knelt down in the grass, folding it carefully and opening her purse. "Do-," he started, "Do you always carry that around?"  
  
"Yep," Lorelai responded, tucking it away. "Everywhere I go, my little girl goes with me."  
  
Jess felt his stomach tightening again. He looked up and saw that the sun had sunk far down behind the back of the building, and the trees around them were more shadowed than they had ever gotten to the point of before. "I should go," he said, looking back over at Lorelai, still knelt down in the grass. He didn't get up from the porch.  
  
"You should," Lorelai agreed, also looking around and noting how late it had become. She stumbled upward first, but instead of standing all the way, she sat down two steps up from Jess on the porch. He looked over his shoulder at her and then stood.  
  
"Bye," he said lamely, arms hanging at his side. He could hear crickets chirping at the back of him. Turning around he started to walk out towards the road.  
  
"Hey, so wait, kiddo," Lorelai called softly from behind him. "What two days are you planning to come here?" She smiled brightly in the dimming light. "I'll make sure to put 'visitation with disillusioned small punk' in my weekly planner."  
  
Jess turned back around and watched her eyes sparkling at him underneath the dark porch, piercing blue just like the ones in the photograph. He smirked, standing up straighter. "Not sayin'"  
  
"Alright then." Lorelai answered back, unfazed. "I'll just come everyday."  
  
Jess dropped his half-smile at that, and watched her steadily. She had a job. She didn't have a husband. She did have a kid. And she lived in a shed in the back of an inn. But she was going to come by here everyday. To see him. Jess took a deep breath, his chest heaving above his clenched gut, as she shifted her thin pink lips into a smirk of her own. "Was my spot first anyway," she said.  
  
It was dark where he was standing, along the edges of the shrubbery and under the heavy oak tree, so Jess let a smile ghost across his face, only for a second. Then he turned out towards the road and ran all the way back to his uncle's, to beat the setting sun behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

Inside the small converted office above the diner, Luke moved back and forth across the tight space, his heavy boots pounding on the floorboards. His increasing agitation had gotten him up out of the kitchen chair, now pushed back haphazardly from the table, so that he nearly knocked into it every couple rounds he went pacing across the room. He walked to the far side towards the bed, feet kicking his nephew's clothes that'd been left tangled together on the floor, and then walked back to the other side, shoulder brushing against the wall, before turning around again. He straightened his baseball cap on his head, clenched and unclenched his hands by his sides, and muttered to himself as he went.    
  
"Dammit, Liz," he cursed, as he crossed the center of the room. He couldn't bring himself to curse out, even alone and under his breath, a nine year old boy, however much he was the direct source of his frustration at the moment. After all, it was his sister that had sent the kid here to begin with, and if she just managed to keep a job for more than two seconds it wouldn't have come to this in the first place. Luke turned on his heel and started up the right side of the room again. It wasn't as though his relationship with his sister and nephew had become infinitely more complicated in the last week - not anymore than it had been his entire life - the proximity had just closed a significant gap. Luke liked to keep these sorts of things at a safe distance.    
  
Yet, here he was, pacing up and down his floor, wondering where the hell his nephew was with the dark fast closing in from outside the window above his sink. He glanced out the small window once more, and could barely see the treeline against the dimming twilight. It had been over two hours, the longest Jess had gone before coming home after school. He'd said something about a club, but that was only supposed to last an hour. Luke straightened his cap again. As he passed by the bed once more, Luke's gaze snapped to the telephone on the far counter. Although Jess had shown a pattern of deliberately coming back late from school - and Luke had almost complete confidence that the cause for his wearing a path across his wooden floor right now was a unique brand of early onset adolescent defiance that must be genetic - he still couldn't ignore the growing anxiety in his stomach that told him to do something other than wait for the kid to come to him.    
  
As he paced back by the phone he took a deep breath and stopped, reaching out a hand. It hesitated, hovering over the receiver. Cop cars swarming around a small town looking for a missing child was exactly the kind of drama he didn't need in his life right now, and he was sure Jess didn't either. Although it might just scare him into sensibility. Or make him close off even more. Luke rubbed a hand over his face, feeling his stubble that had grown out more than usual in the mayhem of the past few days.   
  
The lock from the door around the corner clicked open.    
  
At the sound, Luke closed his hand and moved it away from the phone, turning around. He took two careful steps to see around the corner and there was Jess, his clothes and hair rumpled like he'd just been running, slipping through the door and closing it behind him. When Jess turned back to face the inside of the room he stopped abruptly at the sight of his uncle. Luke suppressed a visible sigh of relief.    
  
Jess turned his face away and walked into the room, taking swift strides towards the table. Luke followed him with his eyes, not saying anything. He'd come back. Nothing seemed wrong ... he just - Luke rubbed the palm of his hand against the fabric of his jeans. He just was late, as usual.     
  
“Are you hungry, Jess?”    
  
Jess dropped his book bag by the table, where it slumped empty against the table leg. Luke watched as he walked over to the side of the room where he was standing, bypassing the mattress setup on the floor for him, and hopping up onto Luke's own full size bed, propping himself up against the pillows. Luke leaned back against the counter. His whole body was still tense from moments earlier, and he didn't want to grill his nephew about where he had been. He'd gone 'round and 'round with him in words and shrugs enough times the past few days and it hadn't worked. If anything, it'd driven him to stay out even later.    
  
He watched as Jess opened one of the books always glued in his hand and started reading.    
  
Luke let go of the kitchen counter and moved forward. “Have you got homework to do? Do you … I dunno, need help with any of it?”   
  
Jess flipped the page of his book.   
  
Luke rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced over at the formless book bag on the ground, his eyes fixed to its creases and dark blue fabric as if it was going to start answering him in Jess’ place. “You should probably finish your homework before dinner. Is there anything you feel like eating in particular? I can probably … cook whatever.”   
  
He looked up as Jess shifted his back against the pillows and propped the book up against his knees.   
  
Luke took a deep breath and renewed his momentum. “And I was thinking tomorrow going out, you know if you want to come and help pick it out after school – going out and buying a -”. The telephone went off; it’s ringing filling the whole small room with an audacious abruptness as if no one had been speaking the moment before.   
  
Luke took a few steps back towards the counter and let it ring one more time before picking up the receiver. “Hello?”   
  
Across the room, Jess flipped the page of his book again and shifted his peripheral vision, just for a moment, to see his uncle leaning against the counter heavy on his right arm and dropping his chin to his chest. “Hey, Liz.” Jess quickly turned his gaze back to the book, his grip tightening around it of their own accord. The off-white pages wrinkled up under his thumbs.    
  
_ “Hey, big bro! How’s everything going? How’s my baby?” _   
  
“Good.”   
  
_ “He settled in okay?” _   
  
“Yeah, he’s -,” Luke stood up straight and walked a few paces over to the sink, the phone cord trailing behind him. “I mean, he’s been here over a week, so he’s had _ time  _ to settle in.” His voice unconsciously dropped lower as he turned his back and gripped the edge of the sink. “As much as he can,” he added.   
  
_ “Well, come on!” _ Liz cooed from on the other end.  _ “Let me talk to him, let me talk to him!” _ _   
_   
“Uh,” Luke turned back around and looked over towards the bed, where Jess was in the same position as before, eyes fixed on his book. “Right.”   
  
He shifted his gaze between Jess and the base of the phone resting on the counter a few feet away from the bed. With a sigh he picked up the base in one hand and walked over to the bed, his boots pressing down against the wooden floor, and cord connecting it to the wall lightly smacking the ground behind him. He held out the receiver. “It’s your mom, Jess.”   
  
Jess raised his eyebrows in response, but did not move his face up from his book.   
  
“Jess,” Luke said, shifting the phone in his palm so the speaker was facing towards his nephew. “She wants to talk to you.”   
  
“Cool,” Jess said, turning the page.   
  
Luke furrowed his brow and jostled the phone in Jess’ direction. “Well, take the phone.”   
  
“Nope,” Jess popped the word out, sliding his hand against the left page of his book and turning his head slightly to start on the right.   
  
“Jess,” Luke said, taking a breath. “You asked me if your mom had called. Well, she’s called now. You're home. She wants to talk to you. Take the phone.”   
  
“No.”   
  
“Jess,” Luke said, his voice stiffer.   
  
Jess turned the page again.   
  
“There is no way you are actually reading that fast. What do you want me to tell her, Jess? Take the phone.”   
  
Jess let go of the book and it slid down his lap. He reached out and wrenched the phone from Luke's palm with both his hands, throwing it as hard as he could against the far wall. The cord stretched out and Luke lost his grip on the base of the phone. The base hit the ground at Luke's feet the same time the receiver crashed against the wall just above a shelf, between a picture frame and a baseball, sending both tumbling down with it, then smacking hard against the floor. The ball rolled away towards the kitchen and the phone ricocheted into the corner, crying out with a sharp crack as it landed.   
  
Luke stared at the base of the phone on the ground. Then stared at his nephew. Jess still had his eyes fixed ahead, anywhere but towards him.   
  
“Alright, that’s it.” Luke yanked Jess up by the back of his shirt, the effortless way he had by his book bag the first day he’d come home from school an hour late. He dragged him out of the bed, the book tumbling down with him, skidding towards the table, landing face down and pages bent onto the floor. Jess’ feet tripped over themselves, trying to find footing as his uncle dragged him over into the kitchen area.   
  
“Hey!” Jess shouted, just as Luke planted him hard on his feet by the table and spun him around by his shoulders. He got down on his knee and held Jess on either side by his arms, inches from his face.   
  
“You can’t do this! You can’t act like this! You can’t throw things! You can’t give me one word answers! You can’t ignore me! You can’t act out!! You can’t come home late from school and not tell me where you’ve been!!! You _ can’t throw things _ !” Luke jostled Jess in place, still holding him firmly by the arms. “I cannot do this if you are going to act like this!! I _ can't _ ! I don't know _ how _ to do this and I  _ can’t _ !”   
  
Jess’ shuddering breath reverberated up through his chest and shoulders, where Luke felt it shiver against his palms. He stopped.   
  
Luke loosened his grip and looked at Jess’ face, feeling as if his eyes had passed right through him as he'd been shouting moments before. His nephew was looking right at him, and just underneath his eyes his cheeks were damp, but Luke couldn’t find any traces or glimmering of tears above them. His eyes were completely dry, and his mouth was contorted and chest constricted, as if he’d accidentally let the tears slip out and urgently stopped himself from letting anymore fall just as quickly.   
  
Luke let go and sat back heavy on the soles of his shoes. He took a heaving breath, looking down. “We have to do this together, Jess, or it’s not gonna work.”   
  
Jess said nothing, his arms glued to his side, still staring at his uncle.   
_   
_ _ “Hellooo?” _ a voice echoed faintly from across the room.  _ “Hel-” _ a beeping cut in between,  _ “Helloooo? Is anybody there?” _ Luke sighed and stood up, walking over to the phone.  _ “Can you h – ear me?” _   
  
He first picked up the base, which had fallen face down, and examined the loose square of the number pad. Then he wrangled up the cord trailed over the floor and walked over to pick up the receiver. He turned it over, seeing the cracked casing on one side.  _ “Big broooo?” _ Luke slowly lifted the receiver to his ear, “Liz?”   
  
_ “Anybody there?” _   
  
Luke sighed, meandering back towards Jess, clicking the hook switch as he went, but Liz’s voice still echoed quietly out of the phone.   
  
_ “Well …” _ her voice trailed as Luke came back to stand in front of Jess. He looked over at him, still standing there, motionless the same. The phone made a strange clicking noise and something rattled inside the base as he turned it in his hand. __ “Oh well,” Liz’s voice filtered out. Jess’ body recoiled at the sound of her voice and his eyes shifted downward, as Luke stood above him with the phone.   
  
The white noise emitting from the phone abruptly went quiet, singling that Liz had hung up. Luke laid the base and receiver separately down on the kitchen table. “Well, you definitely broke it,” he said. Jess’ arm flinched again. Luke watched his nephew’s small frame, his messy dark curls and still damp cheeks, and he felt every muscle in his body rapidly lose all the tension from before.    
  
“Look, Jess. I understand if you’re mad at your mom.”   
  
Jess shifted quickly, as though an invisible force had just let him go, and looked up at his uncle, his eyes hard. “I’m not,” he said. He moved and picked up his bag and his book from on the floor by the table, then went out the apartment door, letting it close behind him.    
  
“Je-,” Luke started, taking quick strides after him. “You can’t just go-” He stopped, as he saw through the window, Jess sitting down at the top of the steps. His bag was in his lap, and his book was balanced on his knees on top of it, his hands smoothing out the bent pages.   
  
After a moment Luke cracked the door open and turned back into the apartment, leaving him be.


End file.
